Clint Barton gets adopted
by Daleks and Demons
Summary: Clint is placed in foster care with an abusive drunk, and Phill saves him from him and himself. this is my first fanfiction and I suck at summarys.
1. Chapter 1

Clint Barton gets adopted

AN: happy new year! this is my first ever fanfic, so lets see how it goes. rated t for possible later self harm and violence. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

"Clint!"An angry voice shouted up the stairs. "Get your sorry butt up here!"

"Coming!" a small 8 year old fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and trying to pull on his socks as fast as he could at the same time, knowing better then to keep his foster father waiting. He raced down the stairs and walked into the kitchen to face his foster father.

"Boy!" the clearly drunk man lunged at Clint who quickly dodged out of the way.

"Don't you have to go to school?" the man sneered. Clint grabbed his backpack and dashed out the door, dodging a beer bottle that shattered against the door. On the way to school, Clint wondered why his social worker thought that Mike (his foster father) was such a great person. He was so awful! As he walked through the doors of his school, he watched all the other kids getting hugs and kisses from their parents.

He walked into his classroom and saw that his teacher was deep in conversation with a man in a suit. His teacher smiled at Clint and he nodded in response. He got out his notebook and pencil and a book. He opened his book and only looked up a few minutes later when the bell rang. All through class he sat quietly and did his work. When the bell rang for lunch he fought his way through the crowd of older students. He bought a slice of the rubbery, slimy, possibly radioactive pizza. He sat down and picked at his pizza.

"Hey! Butthead!" a loud voice called. Clint looked up and saw the face of the person he hated the most.

"What do you want, Jack?"

he replied coldly. "Well, Blondie," Jack sneered, holding up Clint's notebook.

"Give that back."

He said calmly. "No, I don't think that I will, dirt bag."

He said and punched Clint in the ribs. Clint doubled over, and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his ribs. "Really Jack, don't you know that it's not nice to hit poor defenseless blonde girls who can't fight back?" one of Jacks "friends" jeered.

Clint snapped. "Screw off."

Clint said, voice shaking. The crowd in the lunchroom that had gathered might have thought that Clint was shaking in fear, when in reality, he was fighting the flashbacks. Shouts of "loser" and "friendless freak" flew through the air like razor blades. Before he knew it, he had lunged at Jack and punched him as hard as he could in the nose. Blood splattered onto the floor with a horrible splattering sound. He saw Jacks fist coming just in time to dodge out of the way and land another punch on the side of his head. He knew that he punched harder then he should have. Jack fell to the ground, unconscious. "Clint Barton!" he gulped and turned around, heart starting to pound in fear as he gazed into the disapproving eyes of the principal.

"This time, its expulsion."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to LostHawk for my first ever reviewer! This chapter is pretty dark, so if you don't like blood and swearing, skip this chapter or go somewhere else.**

**Disclaimer: if I owned the Avengers then Loki would win, Captain America would be evil, and Clint and Natasha would be way more kick ass.**

Chapter 2

_"Clint Barton!" he gulped and turned around, heart starting to pound in fear as he gazed into the disapproving eyes of the principal. "This time, its expulsion."_

Shit. This was very, very bad. "Come with me."

Clint nodded silently and followed the principal to his office. Clint started to panic when his principal picked up the phone. "Mr. Chad, who are you calling?"

Clint asked nervously, although he thought he already knew the answer. "I'm calling your father of course."

He replied with a 'duh' tone. "No, please don't do that!"

"Why not?" Mr. Chad asked, surprised.

Clint thought desperately for a reason that wasn't 'because my foster father is a drunken asshole and he will beat me so bad that I won't be able to walk for a week'. But it was too late. Clint couldn't stand to listen as the principal told his 'father' what happened. A few minutes later, said man walked in the door to Mr. Chad's office. "Get in the car."

he said in a dangerously low voice. Clint did as he was told. As he walked out of the office he he heard the principal say "You really need to control your son, Mike."

"That annoying little shit is just the foster kid they dumped with me."

He got into the car and tried to prepare himself for the oncoming hell. Mike got in the car slapped Clint across the face. On the drive home, Clint stayed absolutely silent, knowing that if he made to much noise, things would get much worse. Once inside with the front door firmly closed and locked, Mike grabbed Clint by the throat and slammed him ageist a wall.

"What the hell was all that crap about you getting into a fight?" not giving Clint a chance to reply, he punched him hard in the nose.

Clint tried to hold back tears as he heard the blood splatter on the floor. "You useless piece of crap!" his breath smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Nobody ever wanted you, no wonder your parents killed themselves!" Mike screamed.

"They didn't kill themselves, they died in a fire!"

Clint yelled back. "Don't. Talk. Back. To. Me."

Clint struggled for breath, Mike was still choking him. He struggled out of his grip and fell to the floor. "You were an accident!"

Clint felt a burning pain in his ribs. Mike kicked him again, this time in the stomach. The abuse continued for what felt like forever. By the time Mike went out, probably to go get drunk at a pub somewhere. Clint pushed himself up and fell back with a cry of pain. Something was wrong with his shoulder. It looked like his shoulder had popped out of its socket; it was probably dislocated. He lay there on the floor, in a pool of his blood, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hello?"

someone knocked on the door. Clint tried to stifle the sound of his crying. The door opened and Clint filched away, only to realize that it was not Mike, but the neighbor, Jane.

"Oh my god! Clint what happened?"

Clint could only cry. "Hold on Clint, I'll call ambulance."

Soon the sound of sirens filled the air. Two paramedics walked in the door. "Don't worry kid; you're going to be fine."

One of the paramedics reassured. Clint felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher and loaded onto the ambulance. A minute later, or was it an hour later, Clint was being rolled down to the ICU. The strong scent of rubbing alcohol and unnatural lights made Clint want to be sick. He was rolled into an operating room. He started to panic and thrash around. The paramedic who had reassured him before tried to calm him down. "Don't worry, you will be fine, you're safe here."

Clint felt the telltale prick of a needle and everything went black. The last thing he saw before the medicine claimed him was the blood on the stretcher. He wondered vaguely if it was his own. It must be, but there was so much, so much red. And then the drugs pulled him into a chemically induced sleep.

**A/N: Sorry about how short these chapters are! Please review! You guys are awesome!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the long wait. School started again and my parents signed me up for archery lessons once a week, so I was busy with that. I knew archery would be fun, but seriously, it's addicting! I love the sound the arrows make when they hit the target. I might not be able to update next week because I have orchestra, archery, and a concert all after school next week. And I will probably have a ton of math homework. So, yeah… Oh! We meet Coulson and Natasha in this chapter! **

Chapter 3

The first thing Clint noticed when he woke up was the familiar hospital smell of rubbing alcohol. Clint slowly opened his eyes, momentarily blinded by sunlight streaming through a window. Clint looked around, scanning the room for any possible threats.

"Oh! You're awake!" Clint turned and saw a young nurse standing by the foot of his bed, taking notes on a clipboard.

"Where am I?" Clint asked sleepily.

"In the hospital. Your neighbor found you on the floor severely injured." Clint instantly remembered the events of the day before. Or however long he had been unconscious. Clint started shaking as he remembered the look in Mike's eyes as he kicked Clint over and over again. He heard the nurse trying to calm him down, but all Clint could think was that he had to get away from Mike. He tried to yank his IV out, but suddenly, he felt himself getting sleepy. He realized that they were trying to knock him out and started to thrash around even harder.

He heard the nurse's panicked voice, something about "Needs to calm down" and "Fighting the drugs." He heard more people rush into the room and felt hands holding him down. He thought he saw the man in the suit that had been talking to his teacher. Then the flashbacks claimed him. All he could see was the look in his "Fathers" eyes as he plunged the knife into the back of the girl, and everything went dark.

When he woke up again with his hands tied down to the bed. He instantly started trying to get out of his restraints but stopped when he heard the door open. He tensed, thinking that it was another nurse, but relaxed when he saw that it was just a girl that looked about his age.

"Shh." The girl said. She came over to his bed and started untying his restraints.

"Thanks" he whispered. The girl just nodded and motioned for Clint to follow her. Quietly, they slipped out of the room and down several hallways. They turned a corner and bumped straight into the man in the suit Clint had seen earlier and a nurse. He and the girl turned and ran.

"Stop!" the nurse yelled. Of course, the two kids didn't stop running. They sprinted down another hallway they chose at random and hid in the first room they saw. The room turned out to be a supply closet. They stood in the darkness, listening to the chaos outside. Clint found the light switch and suddenly the room was filled with light.

"There's no way out!" the girl cried quietly. Clint looked around and ah ha!

"We could get out this way" he said pointing to an air vent that looked just large enough for them to squeeze through. The girl grinned. She had long red hair and was wearing jeans and a tee shirt and had a small backpack.

"Oh yeah, you might want to change." She said handing Clint a pair of jeans and a black shirt. She turned around while Clint changed and when he was done, she pulled out a pocket knife and started unscrewing the air vent cover.

"My names Natasha Romanoff, what's yours?" Natasha asked.

"Clint Barton." He replied. They shook hands. Clint heard the voices coming closer, they didn't have much time.

"Quick! Turn the lights out!" Natasha whispered. Clint hurriedly flicked the light switch and they were surrounded by darkness once again. Natasha pulled the grate off and crawled inside the air vent. Clint followed, pulling the grate into place.

"Move!" he whispered to Natasha. They started to crawl. They kept going for awhile until they heard the siren.

"Uh oh," they said simultaneously.

"That siren means that a dangerous patient has escaped, in this case, there are two of us" Natasha explained. They climbed faster. Then Clint saw that they were in a room with a door leading outside. He pointed at the door and Natasha nodded. They unscrewed the gate and jumped down. They opened the door and stepped outside and were faced by 20 police men, guns drawn and pointed at them.

"Freeze!" one of them shouted. Clint and Natasha looked at eachother and put their hands up.

"Wait," Clint blinked in disbelief. It was the man in the suit that kept popping up everywhere.

"Hello." The man said. "I'm agent Phil Coulson of S.H.E.I.L.D.; you have nothing to be afraid of. We are here to help you. No one is going to hurt you." He said. He took out his gun and set it on the ground as if to prove his point.

"Sir, the girl is dangerous and so is the other one." Phil Coulson turned around to talk to the police officer. They ran, before anyone realized what happened. They heard the police men chasing them and ran even faster. They ran into a park and ran for the trees. Then, they were flying though the air until they hit the water below the cliff. Clint tasted salt and swam to the surface. He saw Natasha and saw that she was swimming toward a small crevice in the cliff. He followed and managed to squeeze through.

Inside, the crevice opened into a small cave. They both collapsed on the cave floor. After a while, Natasha, who miraculously still had her backpack, pulled out a pack of beef jerky?

"Here," she said handing some to Clint who smiled gratefully and took some.

"So," he said. "Thanks for uniting Me." he said feebly.

"No problem. I read your chart and thought that you must have wanted to get out of there as much as I did."

"Yeah, thanks, I owe you one."

They listened to the waves for a while until Clint noticed that Natasha was starting to fall asleep.

"You can sleep, I'll take watch." Clint said.

"Wake me up if you get to tired and ill switch with you."

"Sure" Clint said.

"One more thing, since we just escaped the cops together, are we friends?" she asked holding out her hand

Clint smiled like an idiot and shook her hand. For the first time, he had a friend, a person he could actually trust. Natasha fell asleep almost instantly. Clint knew that he would have no trouble staying awake; he didn't think he could face any more nightmares just yet.

**A/N: ah ha! I finally wrote a longish chapter! If you want me to update, then you better review! OR me and Clint will hunt you down and you will be sorry! If you like Doctor who, go to YouTube and look up the song Nightmares by Chameleon Circuit. That's how I got the idea to make clint have terrible nightmares. I REGRET NOTHING! Clint is going to have very bad dreams soon, I think, so REVIEW! RIGHT NOW! GET UP OFF YOUR LAZZY BUTS AND REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello again! First, thanks to all of you who got up off your lazy buts and reviewed! Second, Clint will probably be put in a mental hospital in this chapter. Third, I have absolutely no idea it will take for Clint to get adopted, so be patient. I wrote this at 1:37in the morning so... I have no idea how this chapter will end up, so we will just have to find out! There is also a lot of blood and gore and swearing. It starts out all lovely and sweet, but turns into something horrible for Clint. Don't like, don't read.**

Chapter 4

Clint woke Natasha up as soon as the sun started to rise. He would have woken her sooner, but they had both been exhausted from so much running the previous day. They ate the rest of the beef jerky in silence until the sun started to appear on the horizon.

"Where should we go?" Clint asked, breaking the silence.

"We shouldn't go back for a while, it would be too obvious."

"Let's go somewhere they won't look."

"Like where, exactly?"

Clint thought for a minute. They couldn't go anywhere the police or Mike would look. That ruled out parks and candy shops. They couldn't exactly stay at a hotel without an adult with them either.

"I know!" Clint exclaimed. "We could go you the circus that's in town. Even if anyone did look there, we could hide in the crowds. And nobody would ask where our parents went!"

"Good idea! And it would be cool to go to the circus; I've never been to one." Clint smiled at Natasha's enthusiasm.

"I'll tell you a secret, but you can't tell anyone." Clint said in a secretive voice. Natasha nodded.

"When my parents died, I ran away from the orphanage and joined the circus." He whispered.

"No way! Really?!" Natasha exclaimed. Clint nodded with a shy smile. As they squeezed their way out of the cave, Clint realized that the tide had gone out and there was a small rocky beach.

"Good thing the tide was up when we jumped." Natasha said, echoing Clint's thoughts. As they scrambled up a small rocky path that leads up the cliff, Clint wondered why he had told someone he had only just met one of his greatest secrets. As they walked through the park, Clint looked at all the kids who were playing happily and wondered what it would feel like to trade places with them.

After about 15 minutes of walking they reached the circus. Natasha's eyes lit up with excitement as she and Clint walked around. Clint pulled out 5 dollars and gave it to Natasha.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked

"Extra money incase people steal my lunch money or I need five dollars." He said with a grin. They were walking to go see the animals when a voice called out.

"Hey! Clint is that you?" Clint turned around in shock as someone ran up to him.

"John!" Clint exclaimed.

"Oh my god! It really is you!" John said as he pulled Clint into a bone crushing hug. Clint laughed. John hugged like a grizzly bear protecting her cubs, very protectively.

"What happened to you?" he asked taking in Clint and Natasha's appearances.

"It's a long story." Clint said.

"Well, that doesn't matter. Come on, we can get you some fresh cloths and you can brush your hair." He said nodding at Natasha. They followed John to a large tent where all the performers where getting ready for whatever they were doing.

"Can we trust him?" Natasha asked in a low voice. Clint nodded. John pulled out a set of clothes for each of them and led them to a trailer with a bathroom.

"You can wash your hair and change and then we can find you something to eat." Clint and Natasha nodded gratefully. After they had taken a shower and changed they followed John, who took them to buy some food. As they sat down at a table and watched the people walking past them, Clint was flooded with memories from a few days after his parents died. He had been running through the rain, running from the CPS officer who was following him. He had run into John in the circus and he started performing at the circus. He remembered when he had first seen the archers.

He had told John he wanted to try and picked up a bow. It was way too big for him, and he heard the other archers laughing at him. But he loaded the arrow and let it fly. The room went quiet. He had hit dead center in the target. He loaded another arrow and released it. He emptied the quiver that he had picked up, hitting dead center each time.

"Clint?" Clint looked up and saw that John was looking at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just thinking." He replied.

"So, how have you been?" John asked. Clint surged.

Fine I guess." He shrugged.

"And who might you be?" he said turning to Natasha.

"Natasha Romanoff." She said.

"How old are you two?" John questioned.

"8" Clint replied."

"How about you?" he asked Natasha.

"Same here!" Natasha exclaimed.

Clint grinned. Having a friend that that was the same age as you was awesome!

"That is so cool!" Clint said excitedly, but stopped cold when he saw the police men. Natasha saw how panicked he looked and muttered something under her breath. John looked at them, then at the police.

"They aren't looking for you by any chance, are they?"John asked.

"Maybe…" Clint said, feeling himself start to panic, seeing the police men stop a few people and ask them some questions. The people pointed at Clint and Natasha the police officer said something into his radio, but they were already running. They kept running until they were faced by an entire squad of police men. This time, there was no escape. They were completely surrounded.

Neither Clint nor Natasha struggled as they were loaded into p police car and driven to some unknown destination. They soon pulled up in front of a large stone building after about an hour of driving. The sign at the entrance to the parking lot made Clint start to panic. The sign said 'Welcome to the Kingston mental institution.

As the police cars that had followed their car pulled up, Clint tried to formulate some plan of escape. He could see as they pulled up to the gate that Natasha was trying to do the same thing. The driver stopped at the gate and was talking to the orderly that came out to greet them when Clint noticed that hiss door was unlocked and quietly tried opening it. He couldn't believe his eyes. The police man that had driven them to the Kingston had left Clint and Natasha's doors open the whole time.

He quietly pointed this out to Natasha. 'One, two, three.' Clint mouthed. On 3, they slowly opened their doors and slipped out of the car. They were only about 10 meters away from the car when they were spotted. They ran like never before. Unfortunately, the nurse that caught up with them was much faster than both of them. They both continued to struggle until Clint felt the familiar prick of a needle and everything went dark again.

When Clint came to, he saw that he was in a brightly painted room that was themed for kids. There were paintings of zoo animals and happy children on the walls. He also noticed a faint hint of antiseptic in the air. When the door opened a minute later, Clint jumped and tensed, but felt slightly more relaxed when he saw that it was Phil Coulson again.

"Hello again, Clint." He said

"Hello again, good sir." Clint said in pompous British butler voice. He felt slightly better when Phil cracked a small smile.

"It's good to see that you are doing well too, good sir." Phil said in a very bad impersonation of Clint's voice. Clint laughed. Phil started to laugh a bit to. Clint was able to stop laughing after a minute and saw that Phil had a smile on his face again.

"I hope you are enjoying the décor." Phil suggested with a slight hint of sarcasm.

"Oh yes, I LOVE it. The padded walls and badly painted zoo animals really is the best." Clint said sarcastically.

"For an 8 year old, you have a sharp tongue." Phil laughed. Clint put on an offended face that made Phil laugh again. It was good to see him laugh. This seemingly scary man in a dark suit that was so out of place in Clint's brightly colored room laughing with him at British butler accents like it was the most normal thing in the world. Unfortunately, Phil's next words soured the mood.

"Clint, why did you and Natasha run from us yesterday?" Clint thought for a moment. He wasn't exactly going to say 'because I didn't know that you weren't trying to hurt us or because I don't want to go back to another orphanage or back to Mike.'

"Because we were scarred." He said. It was the truth at least, and for whatever reason he felt like he owed Phil that much. Phil? When had he started calling him that? Phil nodded.

"It's okay to be scared, but you shouldn't run next time."

"Okay." Clint said, not meeting Phil's eyes.

"Clint. I'm here because I know you defiantly wouldn't be happy here, and probably want to go home. I can call your foster father and have him pick you up and take you home if you like." Phil explained. Clint could only nod as he felt the beginnings of tears in his eyes. He didn't exactly want to go back with Mike, but that was better than being at this mental hospital or another orphanage. Phil left him for a minute to go call Mike and as soon as he had closed the door, Clint tried to wipe the tears from his eyes.

'Stupid. 8 year olds don't cry.' Clint thought bitterly. That was one of the first things he learned after his parents died, don't show weakness. All too soon though, he herd Mike's voice in the hallway. The door to his room/prison flew open. Mike stormed in and grabbed Clint by his shirt color.

'You stupid little shit! You made me drive all the way out here to pick you up from some freakshow and drive you all the way back home! I have better things to be doing then putting up with your crap!"

"Like what exactly? Getting so damn drunk that you can't even go the the bathroom to take a piss because you're so fucking lazy?!" Clint yelled back. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then Mike reached to his belt and pulled out a gun. Clint's heart stopped. He saw Mike's finger move, heard the bang, and felt a burning pain in his ribs.

The room exploded into chaos. Phil pulled out his gun and pointed it at Mike, people were screaming, and Clint fell to the floor and pressed a hand just below his ribs. It came away sticky and red with blood. Clint's head was spinning. He herd Mike yelling as he was dragged out of the room in handcuffs. Phil ran over to Clint

"Don't worry Clint; everything is going to be fine." Phil reassured. Those were the exact same words the paramedic had said to him before he went into surgery. Clint tried to respond, but ended up doubling over in a coughing fit. When the coughing ended, he tasted copper in his mouth.

"Phil?" he asked shakily.

"Yeah Clint? What's the matter?" Phil asked, alarmed by Clint's coughing fit.

"I think that you should call an ambulance." Clint choked out

It was then that Phil saw the blood on Clint's lips and where it had splattered all over the floor where he was coughing.

Clint's vision started to get blurry, and the room started spinning even more. So much red. Too much red. But it was such a pretty color. A nice dark red. But those chunks of _something_ were messing up the picture he was trying to draw. Then the room faded into darkness. He herd Phil calling his name and vaguely wondered why he sounded so upset. He was just going to sleep with a nice dark red pillow.

And it all went dark.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading this far! Poor Clint is really getting beaten up. I know you all probably think that it is just plain sadistic to make an 8 year old get abused so bad, because it is! So maybe Clint will die. If you want to find out the REVIEW! Reviews are this story's life source! You don't want me to kill this story like I could possibly kill Clint, do you? I don't know if the Kingston mental institution is a real place or not, but if it is, I don't own it. There should be a new chapter soon, and I think it will be the one where Clint gets adopted, and I know you all want to read that, so PLEASE FREAKING REVIEW! My work here is done.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay! So this is the chapter! Clint gets adopted! I know I updated really soon, and that is because I wrote chapter 4 and this chapter at 1:37 in the morning because I can't sleep and I have nothing better to do. So yeah… OR, I could wait to publish this chapter or the next and if you want me to publish it then you will hurry up. Sorry if that didn't make any sense at all. It is 2:33 in the morning and I am tired but I can't fall asleep, so some stuff might not make sense and I will have to fix it later. Whatever. Clint gets adopted in this chapter! So go on, read it, you know you want to…**

Chapter 5

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 'What the hell is that? It's not time for school yet.' Clint slowly opened his eyes and saw that he was in yet another hospital. The all too familiar scent of antiseptic assaulted his nose. He looked around and realized that he was in a different hospital.

"Good morning, Clint." A familiar voice said.

"Phil!" Clint exclaimed then started coughing. After the coughs subsided he looked up and saw Phil Coulson standing next to his bed.

"What are you doing here?" Clint asked.

"I came to make sure you would be okay. I made a promise to Natasha that I would make sure that nothing happened to you." Phil said with a small smile.

"Natasha is here too? Where is she?" Clint demanded anxiously.

"She is probably standing outside the door. Why?" sure enough, the door to Clint's room opened and there stood Natasha.

"Clint!" she exclaimed and ran over to his bed and pulled him into a hug.

"Ouch!" Clint winced, rubbing his ribs.

"Sorry, I forgot that you got shot for a second." Natasha said cheerfully. Clint rolled his eyes at her cheery tone.

"Its fine, it's just a little sore." 'Ouch, maybe a lot sore' he thought with a wince.

"We were so worried! The doctors said you might not make it but I said you would." Natasha said with a slightly less happy tone.

"Where am I anyway?" Clint asked curiously.

"At the S.H.E.I.L.D medical centre."

"What exactly is shield?" Clint asked.

"It's a supper secret government organization. Like the FBI but way cooler, and way more secret." Explained Natasha.

"That would be the best job ever!" Clint said.

"It is pretty cool, but it can be very difficult work sometimes. Well, more often than that." Phil said with another small smile. Just then, a doctor walked in and handed a folder of papers to Phil.

"Agent Coulson, director Fury wanted to speak with you. He is in conference room 3."

"Of course, I'll be there in a second. Clint, Natasha, you can trust Peter. Please don't run off. If you need me just ask someone. But no sneaking around in the vents or anything like that." Coulson said as he turned to leave. Clint and Natasha both nodded with a glance at each other. When Phil left, Peter turned to Clint.

"Hello Clint. I'm Doctor Peter Alex, but you can call me Peter if you want." He said shaking Clint's hand.

"I would tell you that my name is Clint Barton, but everyone already seems to know that." Clint replied with a grin. Peter smiled. He started by giving Clint a regular check up, being very careful not to spook the 8 year old. Then they went down the hallway to another room to get Clint's lung x-rayed. After that was done, Clint and Natasha sat on Clint's bed eating pudding, since it was the only thing Clint was allowed to eat. They watched a SpongeBob marathon on Nick until lunch.

Phil came in around lunch time with a tray of food for Clint and Natasha. Since Clint was only allowed to eat soft foods for a while, Phil brought him a strawberry and banana smoothie that was delicious. After watching more SpongeBob they both started to fall asleep during the episodes, so Natasha left and Clint fell asleep to the muted sounds of SpongeBob.

"You worthless shit!" a fist struck Clint across the face. "You are a waste of space! Nobody should have to put up with you!" another blow, this time to his stomach. Clint's tiny body felt like it was on fire. Mike lashed out over and over and Clint was crying. There was a knock on the door and a girl, about 15 years old looked in. "Oh my god!" she tried to run back out the door, but make was already in front of her.

Clint watches as Mike hit the girl over and over. Forcing her to be quiet as he did unspeakable things to her. When she tried to run again, Mike grabbed her and sunk the knife deep into her back. Her body fell to the floor with a thump. The abuse continued for what felt like forever. Mike was yelling, Clint was crying, the dead girl with the knife in her back had blood dripping out of her mouth and…

Clint woke with a yell. The room was flooded with light and there was a hand on his shoulder. He punched the person and herd them give a grunt of pain.

"Clint! Calm down!" Clint stopped thrashing and opened his eyes. Peter and Phil were pinning his shoulders to the bed, while several other people in the room just stood there in shock. Clint saw that Peter was pinching his nose, which was bleeding profusely. Clint lay there, crying uncontrollably. He felt the bed shift and Coulson was rubbing his shoulders gently as he cried. After a minute he was able to stop crying. Wiping his eyes he sat up and, looking at Peter's nose, immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hit you." Clint apologized.

"Don't worry about it Clint, its okay." Peter soothed. Clint felt the pricks of tears in his eyes again and tried to wipe them away without anyone noticing. Coulson motioned for the other people there to go and wait.

"Was it a nightmare?" Phil asked gently.

"No, a memory." Clint said with a shaky breath. It had been so real, and the fear felt as fresh as if he had just traveled back in time to see that again. I way, it was almost like he had. Clint took deep, slightly shaky breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. Phil sat there patiently until he had calmed himself down.

"Was the memory about Mike?" Phil asked gently.

"Yeah. One of the worst ones" Clint admitted. They sat in silence for a while until Phil asked the question Clint dreaded the most.

"Clint. I need you to answer me truthfully. Does Mike abuse you often?" Clint winced at the word 'abused'

"Yeah." He said quietly. Coulson nodded. He had seen Clint's scars, and they were bad. He seemed to think about something for a moment and then turned to Clint.

"Clint." He said carefully. "I have an offer for you. You don't have to accept it, but you can think about it if you want. If you don't want to live with Mike anymore, or want to go back to the orphanage or foster care, then how would you like to live with me?" Clint gaped in surprise. He had been expecting Phil to tell him to go back to Mike.

"Yes!" Clint exclaimed.

"Are you sure? There could be complications, but-"

"Yes! Yesyesyes!" Clint interrupted. Phil smiled and at that moment, Clint felt as if everything would be okay.

Later that week after meeting with a social worker several times, it was time for the inspection. They were at Phil's house in New York and Clint was up in his new room when there was a knock on the door. The door opened and Phil came in with the social worker behind him. Clint set down the book he was reading.

"Hello Clinton. My name is Michelle." The social worker said.

"Um, could you please call me Clint?" he asked shyly.

"Sure thing. So Clint, how do you feel about living with Mr. Coulson?"

"I think that it's going to be great! He is the best person ever!" Michelle smiled at Clint's enthusiasm. She asked him a few more questions and they all went downstairs. After Michelle had finished her inspection, they sat down in the living room to talk about if Clint could move in, and when.

"I think that there is a very good chance that you will be able to live with Mr. Coulson." Michelle said and smiled when she saw Clint's huge smile.

"However, there is one thing we should talk about. If Clint does live with you, then because he has had a very traumatic childhood he will probably have to stay at a mental institution for a short time to be assessed, and will probably have to go to some therapy sessions." Michelle warned. Phil shot a concerned glance at Clint, who had tensed up at the mention of a mental hospital.

"Would I still be able to live with Phil?" he asked.

"More than likely, yes. But if there is some psychological disorder that needs to be addressed, then you will probably have to stay a little while longer."

"If I had to." Clint said determinedly. Phil smiled.

"Are you sure Clint?" Clint nodded. Michelle left, leaving them to wonder how it would all work out.

Two days later, when Clint got back from school he went inside and saw that Phil was holding a letter from CPS.

"I didn't open it yet; I wanted to wait until you got back." Phil said. He handed the letter to Clint, who held it as if it was a priceless artifact. Clint opened the letter and began to read. His face and his smile was so big that it hurt. He could live with Phil Coulson, the man in the suit, who was the closest thing Clint had ever had to a father. So what if he had to go to several therapy sessions, he now lived with Phil Coulson, and had a Best Friend who could come over and visit all the time.

But there was that small prickle of fear that it could all go wrong. And knowing that Mike would come after him again, the Question was not if, but when. He had been arrested after CPS found out all the horrible things that he had done to Clint in 5 years. He tried to say that Clint was just trying to get attention, but the police had seen the scares. He was sentenced to only 10 years in jail, which was not nearly enough for Phil, or Clint, or even Natasha.

Natasha and Clint had become best friends and did almost everything together. When they were both at shield they would spy on the agents, jump out at the newer agents. They also spent a lot of time mapping out the vents. And if they were really lucky, Phil or Director Fury would let them go down to the training room. Clint would practice with his bow, and Natasha would practice throwing knifes, which she was very good at.

For now, life for Clint, Natasha, and Phil was perfect. Little did they know that at that very moment, sitting in his cell, Mike was planning what he would do to Clint as soon as he escaped. Because they just had to put him in the cell on the outside wall of the prison, with lose bricks that would be pulled out later for an escape route. 'And that little shit is going to pay for what he did.'

**A/N: Mwhaha! No, it's not the end of the story, don't worry. If you want to find out what happens then don't be like Mike (fat and too lazy to take a piss) and F-ING REVIEW ALREADY! I JUST WROTE 2 CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY AT 1:37 IN THE MORNING! I DESERVE SOME REVIEWS!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I'M NOT DEAD! Don't worry, I am going to try and update sooner. I'm really sorry for the really ridiculously long wait, but I redecorated my room and went to Texas. So I've been busy. In this chapter, we skip forward about 3 months to a few weeks before Clint's 9th birthday. BUT! Don't think that this will be an entirely happy chapter; but no spoilers! READ TO FIND OUT!**

Chapter 6

Thwack! An arrow embedded itself deep within the target, just outside of the center. Clint took a deep breath and loaded another arrow. He held his breath and concentrated only on the arrow and the target. He let the arrow fly. Thwack! This time, the arrow embedded itself into the exact center of the target. Clint felt a rush of satisfaction. Clint only became aware that he wasn't alone when a voice spoke from behind him.

"Great shooting Clint." The familiar voice of Phil Coulson said behind him. Clint turned around and saw Phil and Director Nick Fury standing in the doorway.

"It wasn't good, I missed the center." Clint muttered dejectedly. Fury and Coulson raised their eyebrows.

"But you were very close to the center the first time, and the second time you hit dead center." Fury reasoned.

"Clint, you shouldn't beat yourself up just because you didn't hit the exact center of the target." Coulson said gently, coming over to stand beside Clint.

"So?" Clint asked angrily. "What difference does it make? It wasn't the center!" He yelled.

"Clint." Coulson said sharply. "There is no reason to raise your voice." Clint looked at the floor. Coulson was mad at him. What if Coulson didn't want him anymore and made him go back to the orphanage. Or to Mike. The thought of going back to Mike made Clint start to panic. He was taking quick, shallow breaths and was starting to get lightheaded. He heard Phil and Fury rush to his side and try to calm him. Someone laid a hand on his shoulder and he shook them off violently. He couldn't think straight. All he could think of was what would happen if Coulson gave him back to Mike.

He heard the door to the shooting range open again and more people rushed in.

"Clint, please calm down." A voice said calmly. Clint recognized the voice of Peter, the doctor who took care of him when he first arrived at shield. He struggled and then heard the one thing that made him struggle harder than ever.

"Sedate him. We don't want him to get hurt." Yet another needle prick; and the world faded into darkness.

When Clint woke up, he found himself in medical. Again. 'What's the harm in listening? I can't feel my feet, anyway.' Clint thought. As he crept closer to the door, he heard the voices of Phil, Peter, and another voice that he didn't recognize. Clint heard them arguing over something, but couldn't hear through the door. Suddenly, he heard footsteps and the door opening just a second too late. Phil, Fury and a man with dark brown hair and kind green eyes who looked to be in his 20s walked in.

"Hi…" Clint said weakly, not meeting any of their eyes.

"Hello Clint. I see that you woke up." Peter said with an air of amusement. Clint looked up and saw that Peter was smiling.

"Yeah, my feet were asleep." He explained sheepishly, feeling his face burn.

"How much of our conversation did you hear?" Coulson asked.

"Actually, I couldn't hear anything through the door. I just woke up, I heard you talking and wondered what about, but then you opened the door and here we are." Clint smiled guiltily.

"Well, that's fine." Peter said with a tired smile. "Oh! There is someone here to see you."

"Hello Clint." The other man said. "I'm Doctor Steven Andrew." Clint narrowed his eyes at the word "doctor".

"Hello…" Clint said cautiously, wondering what this "doctor" wanted. Dr. Andrew shook Clint's hand and smiled.

"Phil, what-"Clint started but was interrupted when Phil interrupted.

"Why don't we go talk in my office?" he asked, shooting an uneasy glance. Clint started to get a nervous feeling in his stomach. Who was this doctor, and why did Coulson and Peter seem so nervous? As they walked to Phil's office, Clint saw a wave of red hair flash around a corner.

"Tasha!" he called, following her around the corner.

"Clint! I was worried about you! I was just going to see you. What happened? Nobody is telling me anything!" she exclaimed.

"I don't know." Clint thought back to a few hours earlier. "I think that I had a panic attack because I thought Coulson was going to send me back to Mike because I couldn't hit dead center…" He said quietly, feeling his face burn.

"Clint, why would you ever think that?" Coulson exclaimed, coming over and pulling Clint into a tight hug. Clint sniffled.

"Agent Coulson, why don't we talk in your office and get this straightened out." Dr. Andrew suggested gently.

"Of course. Natasha, Why don't you go and practice something with one of the agents. She nodded, knowing better than to argue. Clint followed them to Phil's office, which he stayed in when he was waiting for Phil to finish a report, or when he wanted some help with his homework.

"Clint." Dr. Andrews started. "What you said to Natasha, it concerns me. Do you feel the need to feel perfect in order for others to accept you?"

"Why are you asking me questions? I thought you were a doctor." Clint countered.

"I am a doctor; I am a psychologist. And the reason that I am here is because one of the agents in the shooting range called me and asked me to check in on you and make sure that you are okay." Dr. Andrew explained.

"What if I don't want to talk to you?" Clint shot back.

"Clint. There is no need to be hostile." Dr. Andrew said in a calm voice.

"I still don't have to talk to you. Leave me alone." Clint said in an icy voice.

"Clint, all of these pent up emotions; fear, rage, pain, I am here to help you get through them." Clint glared at him.

"Clint, social services asked me to talk to you. They are thinking about sending you to a mental hospital if they can't see that you are not being controlled by your emotions. These feelings, they can be an early sign of depression, and it is my job to help you through this. I know that you might be somewhat reluctant, but please, Clint. Don't shut us out."

"I don't want to ever go back to a mental hospital. If you think you can help me, I will talk to you. Sometimes I feel really alone, even though I know imp not." He looked up. "I, I thought about killing myself."

**In a secure prison for the criminally insane…**

Mike sat in solitary confinement, plotting how to escape. A nurse walked in the door, but Mike pretended to be asleep. As the nurse bent over, he lunged forward and stab the nurse through the heart with a syringe filled with some calming drug they gave to the patients. The nurse crumpled. Dead. He ran.

'I'm going to find that little shit. And when I do, I'm going to kill him in front of anyone who was stupid enough to take him in.' as Mike snuck out the door, he felt the reassuring weight of the revolver in his hand.

A/N: I know I'm evil! I'm sorry, but this was all I could type before orchestra! I'm sorry! I will try to update sooner, one condition, YOU LAZY PEOPLE REVIEW! I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR EXCUSES! IF YOU CARE ABOUT CLINT, THEN YOU WILL REVIEW! TELL YOUR FRIENDS, CLASSMATES OR WHATEVER! IF YOU WANT CLINT TO LIVE, YOU WILL REVIEW!


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